The Moon and Sake
by thegunboy
Summary: Moonlight makes everything complete, and nigorizake doesn't hurt, either - Shunsui's good at this kind of thing. YaoiLite and zen romance. If you like this story, thank Liralen, who commissioned it.


**The Moon and Sake**

There is no clear reason not to undress and go to bed – no clear reason, except that Ukitake doesn't feel like it. The camp is settled, guards are posted, the night is as still and quiet as it's ever going to get. What passes for his bedding has been unrolled and laid out in a dry place under the wall of this ruined fortress; the small fire is banked well and should continue to burn without much attention until dawn; it's only there because men like fires, anyway – it's far too warm tonight to be a necessity He shrugs off his outer coat and wonders if he's going to be ill – the fever, when it comes, always begins at dusk and escalates as night wears on, burning out, like the banked fire, by morning, taking a little more of his life with it as it consumes itself.

Possibly that's why he feels odd: restless and yet reluctant to move, light and heavy all at once, like one of little Yamada's potions working away in a sealed stone jar. He glances around to see if anyone is watching, then presses his palms to his face, feeling the planes of its bones under his fingers, hard and distinct. His skin is cool. Not the fever – not yet, anyway.

The sky over the trees pales, a parabola of silver forerunning the rising moon, and as he watches, the edge of its disc lifts into view, its _limb_, the light transforming the ragged landscape into geometry inked on paper. Ukitake relaxes a little. It's just the moon that's unsettling him, which is completely natural, because great beauty is a very unsettling thing.

The tree-shadows shift and one detaches itself, slipping silently across the broken ground into the vague light, dissolving and leaving in its place a figure in a large hat. Something warm moves through Ukitake's veins that's got nothing to do with fever.

"Captain of the Eighth Division," he says, "if you're practicing your stealth-and-stalking skills, you might like to consider doing something about that very distinctive silhouette."

"You're correct as always, Captain of the Thirteenth Division," says a voice behind him, soft against his ear, and hands sweep down his shoulders and back up to his throat, slowing to a lingering stroke. Ukitake just manages to stop himself from jumping, and the hands are a gentle weight keeping him still. Ten yards away, the bulky figure tilts its head up, and there's a flicker under the hatbrim, moonlight on glass.

"May I remove these now, Captain?" The slight wind carries a patient sigh.

"Of course, Nanao-chan," Shunsui says, "provided you're wearing something under them – we don't want to disturb Ukitake-taicho any more than we already have."

His long-suffering lieutenant snorts, mutters something that's fortunately not audible and shrugs out of the rucksack, _haori_ and padded coat, leaving them where they fall, the hat teetering on the top of the pile.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant!" Shunsui calls after her retreating back, earning himself another snort.

Ukitake leans back against Shunsui for a moment, feeling the solid mass of his body and past it into the low, steady vibration at its core, power balanced, centered. His own meets it, reflects it first then returns it, changed and enhanced, the way it's always worked for them.

"And what was the purpose of that charade, Kyouraku?"

"Oh… it was just to keep Nanao-chan from getting bored back at headquarters – I thought she'd enjoy an adventure; a little dressing-up, a brisk hike through difficult terrain in the pitch-dark in unsuitable shoes – you know how she loves a challenge."

"You –"

"I'm a bit disappointed in her, though – I specifically instructed her to jump into the air, throw off the hat and yell _boo _at you, and she failed completely to carry out my orders. I'll have her write herself up for it later." The shinigami's voice is regretful.

"Shunsui."

"Besides, if I brought her along, I'd have someone to carry the baggage. The girl's as strong as a mule."

"That sounds more like it. What baggage, though? You're not joining the mission, are you? No one informed –"

Shunsui's hand twists in Ukitake's hair and he gives it a quick tug, not too hard. "Special baggage. I'm not joining the mission, no; this is an unofficial visit. A brief nocturnal appearance. I'll be gone in the morning, just like one of those dreams that makes you sigh in your sleep…" Fingers slide through pale hair until they find a particular place at the back of Ukitake's neck. "And you must have been asleep, Jyuushiro, not to know I was on my way."

"I wasn't sleeping; I was watching the moon."

"I thought you might be. So come with me and watch it properly."

Shunsui lifts Ukitake to his feet without really seeming to, and Ukitake discovers that it's not so difficult to move, after all.

: :

They don't go far; just through the trees and up a rise, but they've put the camp behind them and the world seems very still, Ukitake thinks, held down by the night the way Shunsui's hands had held his shoulders. When they reach a small fold in the hillside, Shunsui stops.

"Here we are, Captain. If you'll just stand off to one side for a minute and imitate a decorative landscape-feature, I'll unpack the special baggage." He's got his hat back on, and his eyes gleam out from its shadow almost as brightly as Lieutenant Ise's spectacles. Ukitake laughs at him and walks off a few paces to watch. Shunsui unfolds, unwraps, arranges and organizes, humming like a housewife until he's got everything sorted exactly the way he wants it: a thick mat on the most level patch of ground, a little pink-gold lantern hung on a forked stick, looking like a peach on a twig, his padded coat rolled up as a cushion.

"Almost done. Not particularly elegant, but we have to take the privations of military discipline into consideration and make sacrifices. And Nanao flatly refused to carry a few of the items I wanted to bring along. I'll have to have her write that up as well, the insubordinate wench. Now, 'Shiro-san, come and be even more decorative over here."

Shunsui throws himself down full length on the mat as if he's testing it; then sits up again. "Nearly forgot the VERY special baggage. I carried this myself." Out of the rucksack comes a large jar, secured with straw rope, and a smaller bundle carefully wrapped in _furoshiki_ cloth. Shunsui pushes this towards Ukitake, almost casually. "In case… you know, it's an occasion or something like that."

Ukitake lifts the wrapping away, uncovering a pair of shallow sake-cups. In the shifting light of the lantern he can't tell if they're dark blue or black, but there's something in the glaze or the texture of the clay that gives them a gleam across their surface, highlighted with small flecks of brightness. Shunsui is busy getting the jar open, but Ukitake can tell he's watching, and gives the care they deserve to his examination of the little pieces.

"These are beautiful." Of course, they would be - or if they were flawed, the flaws would only enhance them

Shunsui shrugs, moving closer with the jar. "Just something I had sitting around somewhere. Put them down and I'll pour." The tray is a black-lacquered circle, painted with a faint scumble of suggested clouds. When Ukitake puts the cups down on it, they nearly disappear, blending with their background. He waits, because it looks like, feels like, there's going to be something to wait for.

The drink is _nigorizake, _delicate and milky-white, still swirling from the shaking Shunsui's given the jar. Poured into the dark cup, the liquid concentrates the light, becoming luminous itself, a small shining moon in a deep sky.

Ukitake looks at it, silenced by its simple perfection, and by the man who has arranged this gift for him, a toy reflection of the universe over their heads. _Why does he continue to surprise me, after all this time? I know what he is, what he hides, what he shows. But it's new, always, every time._

He takes up the cup as Shunsui fills the second – to have two moons in a single sky would be asking too much, when he has all he needs already. Shunsui puts out the lantern then picks up his own cup, and the two men sit, washed in the pale light, silent and complete.


End file.
